Page 56 of Sweet Home Highlander
A thread of hope wound through Aisla at the idea. “A brawl?”
“Aye, between my loutish brothers Evan and Finlay and a few Campbells.”
Aisla recalled what Dougal had said about the tensions between the two clans. “I hope no one was injured too badly,” she said.
Makenna waved off the concern. “The Campbells were sent on their way easily enough, and my brothers were left with but a few bruises and a tale to embellish for the ages.” She glanced over to Julien. “We were thinking of taking a stroll to the village, if ye’re interested. The fresh air might do ye some good.”
“With Niall as well?” Aisla asked, though she hoped it wouldn’t be.
Apologizing to Makenna and meeting her husband face to face were two different things. The latter was far too daunting, especially after he’d undressed and washed her! Would he have enjoyed it? Would his touch have lingered at the appearance of her bare skin? God above, it felt as though she were on fire. Her nipples tightened and her legs went weak.
Get a hold of yourself. You probably smelled worse than a dung heap.
“He was here earlier, but he’s gone off to the mines,” Makenna said. “One of his pulleys broke, and ye ken Niall—he is brilliant at inventing such devices.”
Aisla blinked, the brief thought that it was yet another misfortune to befall the mines eclipsed by the second part of Makenna’s sentence. “He is?”
“Oh, aye,” Makenna said with a proud smile. “He’s right talented. Ye’ve seen what he can do with his harness for his left hand? That was all his creation.”
Aisla had seen the hook and a few others, but she hadn’t known that he had designed them. She sucked in a breath, once more surprised. Makenna noticed it.
“I suppose yer surprise is understandable, considering he didnae ken his own talent until a handful of years ago.” She touched the corners of her lips with her napkin before pushing back her chair to stand.
Julien saw her and stood on ceremony, his mouth still full and his napkin falling out of his lap. “Are we not finishing our meals?” he asked after swallowing his bite.
“Ye’re the only one taking an eon to eat, my lord. We’ll meet ye in town. It looks like Aisla needs that fresh air I promised her.” Makenna flashed Aisla a mischievous grin. “Are ye ready?”
Aisla stood up, her limbs numb and clumsy with a rush of gratitude and relief. Makenna wasn’t just saying she forgave Aisla for the terrible things she’d blurted out the day before. She truly did forgive her. Julien bid them adieu with a promise to find them in the village, and the two women set off.
It wasn’t a long walk to the cluster of shops and businesses and even a few homes in the village. Just far enough for Tarben Castle to fall away behind a ridge, and for the towers of Maclaren to come into view to the east. Though Aisla had already been to the village, she hadn’t truly taken the time to look at it. She’d been too preoccupied rushing from shop to shop, finding items to send to Tarben Castle that might pick away at her husband’s patience and sanity. But this time, she felt calm, almost tranquil, as she and Makenna strolled along the village’s main road. She was feeling much better than she had when she’d sat down with Julien and Makenna, and with her clear head, she took the time to really glance around.
The roads were neat, the shop fronts simple but well kept. There were women and men walking, going about their business, some attempting to keep a gaggle of children from rushing off into trouble. Aisla heard the steady clanging of a blacksmith at work and smelled the yeasty scent of bread on the air. A couple entering the nearby inn caught her attention, and she blinked with delayed recognition. It was Fenella, and from the back, the tall, broad-shouldered man who accompanied her reminded Aisla of Dougal Buchanan. They were inside before she could take another look. Though, it could not possibly be him. Dougal was betrothed. And why would he be with Fenella?
She shook her head. It wasn’t any of her business, or concern, who either of them kept acquaintances with. Aisla turned back to her companion.
“I don’t remember the village being this quaint,” she said as Makenna waved to a few passing women carrying full baskets of bread.
“That’s because it wasnae always this way,” she replied. “When I was growing up, the place felt like a muddy pit most of the time.”
“What changed?” Aisla asked.
“A few years back, an irrigation canal was put in just north of the village to reroute flood waters that used to come down through the center of town here. Things are kept dry now.”
“An irrigation canal? Whose idea was that?”
But she already knew.
Makenna looked at her, smiling slyly. “I told ye he’s talented. He has a gift for inventions.”
Niall.
“And what with the mines being so profitable, I suppose everyone in Maclaren and Tarbendale benefits in a way,” Makenna finished saying.
And all because of Aisla’s husband. Niall had built up the mines and he’d improved the village. He’d changed so much. Including himself. Yet again, Aisla felt a warm fist-sized burst of pride in her chest for his accomplishments, even though she had nothing to do with them at all. Or perhaps she did. After all, he’d only discovered his many talents after she’d left. Perhaps he’d simply needed something to focus on.
“He’s done so well for himself,” she whispered.
“Aye,” Makenna replied, though she sounded hesitant. As if she wished to say more.
